


Melt with You

by orphan_account



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2015 london heat wave, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, mayshaw was confirmed like 2 hours after i wrote this oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 14:43:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4267236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It stayed hot for the rest of the week, and because it was Harry Styles staying over, that meant too hot for clothes."</p><p>Harry stays with Nick during the 2015 UK heat wave; Nick is melting, but Harry's a hot-blooded LA lad now. Serious and not-so-serious moments ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melt with You

It was at least 33º when Nick left the studio, even hotter than the weather report had speculated, and the bloody afternoon sun was shining straight through his sunglasses. He had hardly stopped to imagine the ugly squinted face he must be making when a familiar sleek black car pulled up to the sidewalk in front of him. Nick could see the glint of a ringed set of fingers waving from the back seat. After doing a quick look around for fans, he hopped in the back, heaving an almost embarrassing sigh of relief as the air conditioning hit him full on.

“Alright then?” Harry asked, giving Nick a brief smile before ducking down to look at his phone, as if it hadn’t been weeks since he’d seen Nick.

“It’s fucking HOT,” Nick answered, and it must have been a sufficient response for Harry. He wordlessly passed Nick an iced water bottle while Nick struggled to undo a few more buttons of his own shirt, already feeling uncomfortable and sweaty on the leather seat. Nick had to trust the window tinting to do its job today. _That’s the last thing I need the week X Factor starts filming: the Sun front page, topless on a London street with bloody Harry Styles._

“So, yours then? Jonny’s gone home and I still have a couple days off. Gem keeps bugging me about seeing her new cat, but like…” Harry trailed off when he noticed that Nick was looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. A slow smirk spread across Harry’s face, the faux-innocent kind that always made Nick want to either hit or kiss him. “What?”

Nick was laughing now, head leaned over nearly onto Harry’s shoulder, with only the sharp cold of the water bottle separating their legs from touching. “Nothing, Styles, you’re just a freak of nature is all.” Harry was decked out in a long-sleeved YSL shirt and his everyday popstar pants, sitting there babbling about his days off, and he looked as if he’d never broken a sweat a day in his life. Nick hoped Haz hadn’t heard him moaning about the weather all morning on the radio.

Though Nick hadn’t answered Harry’s first question, the driver was already heading toward the DJ’s house. And Nick already dreaded stepping out of the dark car and into the heat of day. “Sometimes I forget you’re an LA lad through and through.”

—

It stayed hot for the rest of the week, and because Harry Styles was staying over, that meant too hot for clothes. Whenever he wasn’t out doing band things, Harry was wandering around in his pants at the very most. _Always a bit of an exhibitionist, that one,_ Nick thought, _but it’s okay because I guess I am too._

The afternoon after he’d arrived, they were lying in an overheated heap on the couch, watching some horrible reality program, when Harry asked, “How was Michael’s birthday?” Nick muted the telly.

“How was New York house hunting?” Nick quipped back, and instantly regretted it. They texted most days, but with all the time apart, there were always big things they ended up not telling one another. It became this weird game, where after enough time spent walking on eggshells they’d eventually just start stomping, bringing up bits about each others’ personal lives that they’d only heard about through Twitter or half-true headlines. Harry was always more hurt by this game in the end, but it wasn’t something Nick liked winning.

This time he only looked hurt for a moment, before rearranging his expression into one of unreadable calm. “Was good…” he hesitated a minute and Nick’s stomach tightened at the idea that his carelessness might bring an end to Harry’s visit before they’d even settled in. “Not as hot,” Harry continued, pulling at his own tangled mess of hair as he ticked off a mental list of positives. “Closer to home than LA is.”

 _Home._ Nick focused on the word as if he’d only just heard it for the first time. This was another game they played; crippling emotional honesty. Harry was definitely better at this game. Nick thought both games rarely ended the way he wanted them to. “Home,” Nick repeated without realizing he’d spoken aloud. He hadn’t even bothered to think about what Harry meant about the weather, but it occurred to him a moment later that Harry liked the heat. It was Nick who didn’t.

Harry kicked idly at Nick’s shin before leaning across the couch, splaying himself onto Nick’s lap. “Yep. Home.” He reached up his arms to connect them somewhat awkwardly to Nick’s, and they sat that way in silence for awhile, lost in thought, a tangle of tattoos and warm limbs.

—

“Know what we need?” Harry yelled from the kitchen sometime later. Apparently they’d fallen asleep, and Nick woke up grinning despite his stiff neck and overly-loud houseguest.

“What?” Nick called out from his spot on the couch, trying to sound more exasperated than endeared.

“Cold drinks!” Harry called back, and tossed a bottle at Nick’s face as he emerged from the kitchen, his pants abandoned completely somewhere along the way. Harry turned around almost immediately and darted back into the kitchen. _No one should be that energetic in this heat._

Pig came hustling into the room to respond to the noise, panting at the heat, and Nick scratched behind her ear in apology. “Sorry, Pig. Did the big loud idiot scare you? He just doesn’t have an inside voice after so many concerts, you know how it goes. Are you a fan of One Direction, Pig? No, you probably only like indie stuff, isn’t that right?” He continued to chat with the dog for awhile, feeling she’d been a bit neglected since Harry arrived, and when Nick looked back up there was a whole new row of assorted drinks leaking condensation onto his side table.

 _Oh, good,_ Nick thought wearily, fighting the urge to put down coasters. _Here comes the alcohol part, which means next comes the sex part._ The sex part of this thing with Harry was definitely one of the best bits, but since H moved to LA it had always made Nick a bit anxious to think about. Nick had someone else now, right? Did Harry? Did it matter? This—Harry—always felt like something Nick should outgrow, until it was actually happening again. Then it felt like the best thing he had ever done.

Nick must have looked too serious, because when Harry came back with a final load of drinks, he tied his hair up in a quick bun and was on Nick before the DJ knew what was happening. Almost immediately Harry’s kisses became rushed and needy, too heated for such a humid day, and Nick traced his fingers along the outside of Harry’s arms to show the pace he hoped to slow to. Harry groaned and instead began grinding up against Nick’s thigh, and Nick was awake enough now to feel himself getting hard in response. Harry had been naked most of the day, but here on the couch was the first time Nick was really aware of his body, of the way Harry’s tattoos looked up close, beaded with sweat, pushing against Nick insistently. Harry began kissing a trail down his stomach, one hand already halfway down Nick’s pants and _Fuck, this feels good, but fuck, it is HOT,_ Nick thought.

Suddenly, Nick was laughing again. “What?” Harry asked, looking up from Nick’s waistline, face flushed and hazy. His brow was furrowed rather adorably, as if he worried that his blow job skills were suddenly in question.

“You’re like a bloody furnace!” Nick said, unable to stop laughing now. “Every time you touch me, it feels like you’re giving me a sunburn!”

Harry gave a look of indignation, and then in a mock-serious tone said, “Oi, if you can’t handle the heat, get out of the kitchen mate!” Nick was about to tell him that wasn’t even funny and didn’t make sense either, but then Harry’s mouth was on his cock and he forgot what he’d meant to say.

—

The night before Harry flew back to America, they started playing the honesty game again. Nick didn’t mind it this time, lying in his bed playing with the rings on Harry’s fingers while the popstar drifted off to sleep, naked again even though it had cooled off a bit. He felt comfortable this time rather than cornered by the conversation, because when he was really with Haz, the future seemed fuzzy and far off instead of nerve-wrackingly nearby.

“You could come to LA sometime, you know,” Harry was saying, and Nick hoped it was sleep and not sadness that made his voice sound thick. “I mean, I know you, like, stopped by this spring, but we could do it proper sometime when I’m off tour.”

“You’ll never be off tour, kid,” Nick replied matter-of-factly, and kissed Harry on the forehead. In the warm darkness, he thought lazily, it would be easy to pretend it was all a dream. “You’ll be touring until you’re old and gross, and then you’ll set up a gig in Vegas and all the girls who used to lose it for One Direction will be old ladies screamin’ in the front row.”

Harry didn’t laugh. They’d had this conversation before, but Nick knew that Harry thought it was different now, with Zayn gone. The band’s expiration date seemed to be closer than anyone realized. “I’m only kidding,” he said, poking Harry in the ribs. Harry still wouldn’t smile, but he rolled his body into Nick’s and leaned his head against Nick’s chest. “You know I have X Factor and the radio here.” _And someone else,_ he thought, almost as a question. “It’s just tough to get away.”

Harry gave a small smile and blinked his glossy eyes, and Nick felt a bit of wetness on his chest. “You’re just afraid of the heat,” Harry said quietly, and drifted off before Nick knew what else to say.

—

“It’s just past eight am today and it’s finally, FINALLY cooling down here in London, thank GOD. Do you know what, though? The heat wave was kind of like this thing where we all moaned about it when it was happening, but now that it’s over I kind of miss it. No? Everyone here is giving me a weird look from across the studio. I’m not even joking, everyone just looked at me simultaneously like they want to kill me. Is that not a thing? Well, I’m saying it is. Now that it’s back to the regular old weather, I miss the heat after all. I do! Didn’t know what I had til it was gone, I s’pose.”

**Author's Note:**

> Message or follow me on tumblr at trash-direction!
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing fic ever and for some reason I decided to write it about real people. If either Nick or Harry ever read this...sorry. (:


End file.
